


New Ways to Cope

by DeIsTiEl



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bad Decisions, Depression, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, Fights, Flashbacks, Gore, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Underage Drug Use, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, mentioned gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-22 19:23:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18533908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeIsTiEl/pseuds/DeIsTiEl
Summary: I honestly have no idea what the hell is going to come out of this, but I'm beyond happy to see that people actually enjoy my content :)If you have any chapter ideas, I'd be more than happy to hear them!I tried writing one with Vanya and Klaus hanging out, but my laptop went yeet and all of my progress was deleted. If this chapter does well, I might consider redoing it. Who knows?But in all seriousness, thank you so much for reading. I will be updating this more in the future.





	1. Flock

Clocks chime in an endless loop of unbearable tones. Birds dive towards the ground, looking as if they'd crash, and then disappeared, almost like it were just a figment of someone's imagination. 

Klaus carries his Pentax in Allison's purse now; the red one with silver beads cascading down it's left side. He found it easier to carry it this way than in his jacket where it would fall out on occasion. He takes it out carefully and aims at the mystical flock of birds, hoping they'd swoop down once more. Ben is sitting on the bench behind him, seemingly admiring Klaus' work. 

The faux feathers of Klaus' black coat stir when a breeze wafts past, and the desperate  _'click'_ of a camera can be heard before the birds vanished before his eyes.

Maybe another day then.


	2. Whiskey Glass

Klaus takes another shot.

The whole room is spinning. Luther passed out hours ago, right after dancing shamelessly on the table, taking a crab like stance and scuttling around until he abruptly fell into the kiddie pool. He's 63% sure that Diego had brought it in to prove a point, but he was gone along with everyone else. Except for Luther. 

He takes another shot.

Klaus was found earlier that day nursing a glass of whiskey. One by one his brothers and sisters joined him, starting with light conversation, then with a sloppy game of 'Truth or Dare'. It wasn't long until Number 5 got upset and decided to leave with an "I'm too old for this" and his now signature pout. The rest, Klaus wasn't so sure.

And another.

It was nice to see everybody together, Klaus could appreciate that, but sometimes he just wanted to be alone. His family, he could finally call them this now, just wanted to make sure that he wouldn't go off the deep end. He wasn't too sure on why they pretended to care so much, or why they bother, but he lets him. He can admit to himself that he likes the attention, even if it is charity.

He takes a close look at his glass.

He'd promised himself that he wouldn't drink anymore. He said the same things about drugs months before, but he still keeps a handful of xans in Allison's pocketed skirt. He sighs, hand toying with the pills. He eyes Luther momentarily. Klaus takes a deep breath.

And gets high for the first time in a long time.


	3. Tombstone

The dead follow people like a shadow.

Klaus takes note of this about three days after he's sober. Bloodied little girls with pigtails haunt the souls of mourning mothers and rugged fathers. Pale men dressed in attire much like the one Klaus was forced to wear in Nam wander the streets aimlessly; some seemingly watching over civilians with faces of steel. From time to time, they wave, and Klaus always waves back. The stench of death is everywhere, and it makes Klaus feel less lonely.

He snaps a photograph of a tombstone dressed in poppies, lilacs, and white roses. The dead pose in their wake.

Klaus' style is rather morbid, and it seems that nobody but him can find the beauty in what he photographs. He believes he works best in darker, more obscure locations littered with graffiti and propaganda. Klaus likes to snapshot people with internal struggles, and the light that their smiles provide. He takes angled pictures of Vanya from time to time, once catching a genuine smile that graced her face beautifully. Sun beams danced on her shoulders and in her dark hair. He carries this photograph in his breast pocket: the one closest to his heart.

He takes a break, playing  _Syd Matters_ through his speakers at random. He holds light conversation with the man, then with whoever will join him.

There is a nice little crowd that forms; some bearing injuries too gruesome for description. The dead seem to like his company, but Klaus will continuously tell himself that it's not truly him that they like. He's their only connection to the outside world.

The sun is setting, painting the sky in watercolor blues, oranges, reds; and yet he cannot find a reason to leave. But he knows that he has to. Klaus promises a newly deceased man named Hester that he'd return again someday and tell more tall tales about himself and his family, or the people he'd been forced to live with throughout his childhood. He smiles, leaving his speaker for the dead to listen to so their eternity wouldn't be completely empty; takes his Pentax, and exits stage right.

Klaus returns Thursday evening. He and Hester have a lot to catch up on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly have no idea what the hell is going to come out of this, but I'm beyond happy to see that people actually enjoy my content :)  
> If you have any chapter ideas, I'd be more than happy to hear them!  
> I tried writing one with Vanya and Klaus hanging out, but my laptop went yeet and all of my progress was deleted. If this chapter does well, I might consider redoing it. Who knows?  
> But in all seriousness, thank you so much for reading. I will be updating this more in the future.


End file.
